Here is the Church

"Oh, she's a work in progress..."
"God isn't finished with me yet..."
How often have we used familiar words so casually?  They're true enough, but what are we really thinking?

Building evokes grand plans for the future, and God uses them as images for lives of faith intentionally. Putting brick on brick brings hope.  Nailing together fresh 2x4's reminds us that we believe both in beginnings and in completions.  


You will call your walls Salvation and your gates Praise.--Isaiah 60:18

Yes, God builds in us something corporeal and firm, something that He expects to stand forever.  We are His temple, and He says we are to be known as Salvation and Praise.  We do not stand as just any common building.  We rise forth as His temple.

You, also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.--1 Peter 2:4-5

God provides both the blueprint and the building materials: faith, love, forgiveness, redemption...all of it.  He places his wood and brick in us one on another over the foundation of His Son and He expects us to stand.

Remember what goes on in a temple:  repentance, restoration, prayer, praise, sacrifice.  This is what is supposed to go on in us.

Remember that childhood game..."Here's the church, here's the steeple..."?  You and I are the church that stands as God's landmark.  You and I are the steeple that calls people to prayer and worship.  You and I welcome the people that throng to our gates. 

God builds on us through His own perfect will and for His own glory.  Unlock the doors, fling them open.  God lives in us.  Work in progress, indeed.

Anywhere But Here

Some circumstances just stand out in life.  Like signposts punched into the crossroads of days, they mark places we don't forget.

One of the markers in my life came from my sweet stepmother Maggie.  While my father suffered from Alzheimer's, getting progressively sicker and more difficult and unpredictable, she served him patiently and with almost seamless love.  It cost her, and she grew thin from it, but somehow, the weariness rarely showed on her face.  She smiled and comforted with hardly any visible personal distress.

One day, when I asked her how she was doing, she took my hands, looked me in the eye, and said, "I don't ever want to be anywhere but here."  Years later, I still find that absolutely amazing. It seems like I spend so much of every day's space thinking about somewhere else.

I confess impatience with life.  It's not just that life brings trouble.  It's that life is so often so darned, well, ordinary.  And I am willing to do the mundane, but in the process, I sure expect something significant and enlarging and ALIVE.  But life doesn't work that way.

When the woman saw that the fruit was good for food and pleasing to the eye and desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it.--Genesis 3:6

Eve had the same problem as I do.

I constantly look here and there for something better than what I have, thinking that life is bigger than what lies right at my feet. But God has already shown me the path of life. He says so.


These are the days of my life.  Right here.  Right now.  Just as they unfold, the beautiful and the mundane.  If I don't live them, waiting for something different,  I will not only miss the grand and lofty, I will miss everything.

These days, every one of them, are gifts from God.  I need to live them, expecting beauty not because of what the days bring, but because of who God is.  The wonder of days, after all, does not come from their own unfolding hours; it comes through God's ordination.  

Days have beauty simply by virtue of their creation by God. That is why I rejoice and am glad in them.

I have come so that they may have LIFE and have it to the full.--John 10:10 (my emphasis)

I do not ever have to wait one more minute for life to begin.  It races by second upon second.  I spend it as I talk or write or love.  I also spend it while I grumble or argue or look around somewhere else.  Life is my Lord's wonderful gift, unwrapping itself with each breath.

Breathe in, breathe out.  Live. Now.

Looking Both Ways, Part 2

As pleasant as memories can be, God does not want us to look behind. God has prepared for us  another vision. Part 1

We are the temple of the living God..."Therefore come out from them and be separate," says the Lord.  Touch no unclean thing and I shall receive you.--2Corinthinans 6:16-17

On the day I first truly understood my sinfulness before God and was broken by it, He set me apart.  On that day, I walked, or more  correctly crawled or crept, into God's throne room  and I return there daily to be refreshed.  As I approach Him, He infuses me with Himself with the intent of separating me from everything and everyone who is not part of Him. 

He means to make me like Him, the way He originally created all men.
This is what He wants me to see.  He not only offers me healing, he offers me holiness.

I must concentrate wholly on God, seeking to please Him, soaking up moments with Him, listening to Him so that I can obey, repenting for my failures before Him.  Where I am preoccupied with other concerns, past or present, I do not let Him take hold.

All the people in my life are important, but not I cannot focus on them.  They are the platform upon which I demonstrate God.  That is why He brings them.  

As I draw near to God, He shows me His character for the purpose of changing mine to resemble Him in the way He originally created me.  My arena in which to accomplish this are the people and circumstances He ordains and, in the process, as I succeed, He is glorified. 

The Lord God not only fills the rearview mirror with His own dear face.  If we are looking, He fills the windshield, too.

Looking Both Ways, Part 1

There has come a point in life, now that I have walked pretty far down the road, when I know I have more years behind me than I have ahead.  Memories pile up and as they multiply, tempt me.

Memories exist always in the present tense.  They are always so THERE--prancing in anticipation of attention like a three-year-old.  I settle into them sometimes, reliving old days in either delight or regret, feeling every swell and twinge all over again.

But God does not exist behind us...He waits before.


When you enter the land the Lord your God is giving you and have taken possession of it and settled in it...the King must not acquire a great number of horses for himself or make the people return to Egypt to get more of them, for the Lord told you, "You are not to go back that way again."--Deuteronomy 17: 14,16

I am not to go back that way again. 

Memories fall into one of two categories:  sinful, that is, ones for which I must repent and allow God to put behind both our backs, and ones constructive in the sight of God, which I lay at His feet as a sacrifice of homage and thanksgiving.  In either case, I have to remember that, when I first walked into my Lord's throne room, He helped me close the door by which I entered. That door closed on many things, one of which was the power of those memories.

I am not to remember primarily what I did, good or bad, but what God did.  

This applies to my husband, my children, and my work, both in the Kingdom and in the world.  Reliving the day when my sons took their first step, or my wedding day, or the day I got my first car bring warm feelings, but I cannot attach too much affection or importance to them.  Remembering what God did through those and other circumstances...now, that has some value.

Our Lord's rear view mirror shows His face alone.
Part 2 

Am I Not Sending You?

I always felt kind of sorry for Gideon.  Bible stories tell us that he was a mighty man of valor, but they sure seem to exaggerate.  Gideon cried, and cringed, and complained.  He questioned his mission at every step. He performed every act of 'bravery' sneaking around at night.  And I don't blame him. 


God gave Gideon an nasty job, then took away every tool he needed to perform it.

God found Gideon sneaking around threshing wheat in his father's winepress so the Midianites wouldn't find him.  Then, when God told him to cut down his father's pagan worship sites, he did it at night so no one would blame him for it.  When God told him to defeat the Midianites, he said, "Who, me?" and whipped out a fleece to see whether he could get out of it....twice.  When the day finally came to do the deed, and he snuck up (again) on the Midianite camp with his pitiful 300 soldiers, they wielded flares and trumpets rather deadly weapons.

God  heard Gideon's weak whining, but ignored it.  Frankly, I'm surprised that Gideon didn't give it all up as a bad job.

Gideon had to take his piddly army into a sad kind of battle saying only, "God told me."  He must have looked like an idiot.  What if he was wrong?

God, of course, had something clear and plain to say to that:

The Lord turned to him and said, "Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian's hand.  Am I not sending you?"--Judges 6:14

Visual:  [Slap upside the head]

"Am I not sending you?  Am I not the God of the universe?  Did I make a mistake?"

Of course not.  God says 'Defeat the Midianites' or 'Build the temple' or 'Kill the giant,' then proceeds to tell us that we don't need anything but what little strength we have and Him.  It's about Him.  It's always about Him.


Gideon didn't need any equipment greater than his faith.

Fortunately, he did have that.

God has given us a job, too.  He is sending us somewhere without equipment or soldiers or bravery.  Is our faith strong enough?

Double Vision

Roche-a-Cri State Park

We live in Southwest Wisconsin, an area called the driftless zone because the glaciers that leveled much of the Midwest missed us.  As a result, our local landscape undulates with rolling hills and rocky bluffs that give our long views a kind of romance.  They also make for interesting hiking.

Nearby Roche-a-Cri park, for instance, brags a 300-foot bluff that rises alone on an otherwise nearly level plain and can be climbed by anyone determined enough to conquer its 303 steps.  We have done this, and enjoyed it, even when we had to stop a few times along the way to catch our breath.  When we got to the top, we felt we'd done something worthwhile and the resulting view rewarded us amply for our efforts.

In thinking about it now, the stairs themselves made the climb easier.  Not only did they keep us off the dangerous and uneven rocks, but they more importantly provided a continuously rising path, constantly visible and with clear, progressive markers along the way to an easily recognizable goal.  Our life in Christ is not so neat.

God provides stairs, all right, but we don't see them clearly.  We stop and start, turn this way and that way.  The goal looks close one day, far away the next.  No wonder we get tired.  No wonder we just sit down some days, close weary eyes, and sigh.

It seems like God wants us to walk not hundreds, but thousands, or tens of thousands, of little insignificant steps, and the end doesn't seem to get any nearer.

Kind of like this climb--there's something entrancing at the end, but we can't seem to figure out how to get to it.

Frontenac, Quebec City, Canada

Jesus had the same problem, but He had an advantage we do not.  He had perfect double vision.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who, for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down before the right hand of God.--Hebrews 12:2

Jesus put His foot on the step in front of Him, regardless of its seeming insignificance or very real pain, understanding fully the importance of both that step and the culmination of all steps.

He did not forsake the small for the big, nor did He do the reverse.  He did not neglect circumstantial needs in favor of eternal heaven, nor did He concentrate so much on immediate situations that He neglected the everlasting.  He embraced the immediate need for the cross, but kept His eye trained on His heavenly throne.

A discipline to double vision gets us though life, too. 

On any given day, I have steps before me: some hard, some easier, some just plain mundane.  Do laundry, write, respect my husband.  But before my eyes God has also hung His heaven.  This is the joy set before me.  I have to keep my eyes on both the long view and the short.  This is how I learn to look squarely both at today's step and tomorrow's destination.

Already Begun, Part 5

The faith we embraced first buoyed us up (Part 1), then tore us down (Part 2) and (Part 3) , then, ragged and bleeding, brought us to the feet of Christ, the place He always intended us to come (Part 4).  Grace has seen us through.  All we need now is a good nap while we wait for heaven.

Wrong. God has more in store. 

Arise, shine, for your light has come.
and the glory of the Lord has dawned upon you.
For behold, darkness covers the land,
deep gloom enshrouds the people,
but over you the Lord will rise,
and His glory will appear on you.--Isaiah 60:1-2


God disciplines, but He then restores.

God will restore what he has taken a hundredfold.  He did it for Abraham.  He did it for Moses.  He did it for Job.  He did it for Joseph.  He can do it for us.

And with restoration, the cycle completes. 


The first and last instruction Christ gave to Peter was, "Follow Me."  He says the same to us.

"Take heart," God says, "I have overcome the world."  It is time for us to learn that, as we follow Him, we will overcome the world in His Name.  And we have to do it the same way He did, by walking in obedience into the place of terror and, through grace alone, walking out again, hand in hand with His Father.

We cannot access glory from ease, but whatever challenge God deems appropriate, He brings to refine the gold He deposited in us way back at the beginning, when we first put on our faith.  Now, after all the repenting and testing, He tells us to arise and shine.

Our story does not end until He accomplishes His resurrection in us.

Sweet Christ, let whatever glow emanates from our poor souls originate not from gold as I know it,  but as You do, from the radiance of Your glory.